“We can talk about it when you get back,” I mutter evasively.
“Oh my God, somethingdidhappen,” Ellie gasps, then hiccups. “What did he do? I’ll kick his ass into next week.”
“You, my sweet Ellie Bellie, aren’t kicking anything right now. You need to go drink some water. Griffin, get her home safely.”
“You know I will,” he says, and I hear Ellie giggle as he smacks a wet kiss on her cheek. “We’ll be home Sunday afternoon, come over then and tell us what happened.Dowe need to kick his ass?”
“No, Griffin, it’s fine,” I say, sadness crawling back up my insides. “I’ll see you Sunday. Love you guys.”
“We love you!” they shout in unison, and then the line goes dead. I set my phone down next to me and lay my head against the back of the couch.
You cannot sit here and mope for the rest of the night.
Picking my phone back up, I scroll until I find the contact I’m looking for. This is probably a terrible idea, but I can’t stomach the thought of sitting here alone any longer.
“Uhhh, hello?”
“Hi David,” I say awkwardly. “It’s Abby.”
“Yeah, I know, I’ve had your number saved for fifteen years,” he says suspiciously. “But you never call me. Why are you calling me?”
“Um, well, I was just wondering what you’re doing tonight.”
“What I’m doing tonight,” he repeats slowly.
“Yeah, like, do you have any plans?”
“...why, did someone say something?”
“What? No,” I say. “I just wanted to know if you were free. I know we’re not doing Abby Duty anymore, but I’m at the house by myself, and Ellie and Griffin are gone, and Jack had plans–”
“What do you mean Jack had plans?”
“I don’t know, David,” I snap. “He didn’t give me the details; he just said he had plans and left in a hurry.”
“Hmmm, that’s weird,” he muses. “But no, I don’t have plans. Have you eaten? I can bring pizza.”
“Pizza actually sounds amazing,” I sigh with relief. “All Little One wants these days is carbs and cheese.”
“Okay, cool, I’ll be there soon.”
“Will you,” I say nervously. “Will you text me when you’re on the way and stuff? It just…makes me nervous. To not know where people are.”
There’s a long silence, followed by the softest voice I’ve ever heard come out of David Romero’s mouth.
“You got it, mama. I’ll keep you posted. Tell the fetus Funcle David is on the way with all the cheese and carbs it can imagine.”
“Okay, I will,” I laugh. “See you soon.”
Chapter 17
Jack
Sixteen Weeks
This is stupid.
I look around the crowded bar, feeling miserable and nursing a beer that I don’t really want.
